


Relashio

by Sansa_Stark



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:54:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24110026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sansa_Stark/pseuds/Sansa_Stark
Relationships: Narcissa Black Malfoy/Ginny Weasley
Kudos: 7





	Relashio

It was at the Malfoy’s Christmas party. It was stupid – Ginny shouldn’t have even been there anyway. But Michael’s parents worked in the ministry and he and Mr Malfoy were pals; so Ginny had been brought as a plus one. If she was honest, Michael was annoying her. She’d never wanted to come in the first place, but Michael had gone all moody and acted like she was being unreasonable in not wanting to go to the house of a family that had insulted and degraded her family for years. And who were responsible for the Chamber. Ginny shuddered. The less she thought about that the better.

Anyway, there she was, standing awkwardly by herself as the Corner’s rotated the room and Michael got distracted, laughing at something Pansy Parkinson was saying. _The Bitch_ , Ginny thought. But if she was honest it was Michael she was more upset with. When she first started dating him she thought she was finally moving on, from Harry and all the horrific memories he represented of that awful year. She’d liked spending all her time with him, and he’d been sweet. But now everything was becoming more and more about him and less about her. She’d liked it when she first noticed it. _Good_ , she had thought; _finally I don’t have to think about myself anymore. I can think about Michael._ Michael’s life was nothing like hers. Sure they held similar beliefs, and she had sympathised with his rebellion against his family’s values, but nothing truly bad had ever happened to him. Nothing close to being possessed by the darkest wizard in history, anyway. When Ginny thought about _him_ her hands began to shake uncontrollably, and she just wanted to lock herself away in a dark room and cry. Of course, she couldn’t tell any of her family this. They thought she was over it. Certainly Harry never brought it up. Harry, in front of whom she had to act fierce and competent, who was probably the only other person who’d had any experience as similar to hers. Harry, who couldn’t recognise a single emotion she was feeling; who overlooked her completely. Now that Michael was drifting from her, her thoughts kept returning to Harry, with more and more bitterness.

Ginny nursed the butterbeer in her hands with more and more bitterness. _Stupid party. Stupid Malfoys_. Ah yes, the beautifully blonde Malfoys, with their pureblood mania and their utter disdain for anything Weasley. Ginny could hear Draco’s guffaw from across the room, grating on her nerves. And Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy had practically sneered at her as Michael introduced her as his girlfriend. There were so many better things she could be doing right now. Being at home, for example, with her brothers and Harry and Hermione. _But that wasn’t that great either_. She pushed the thought from her mind. God, her dad had been so angry when she’d said she was going to the Malfoys for Christmas Eve. It was exulting, in a way, to do something so utterly rebellious. If she didn’t hate everything they stood for with a passion, Ginny would consider dating Slytherin boys. See how that wound Ron up, if he couldn’t even deal with Michael Corner.

He was flirting with Pansy now; Ginny could see it even from across the room. She would have been amazed if she wasn’t already disillusioned with the concept of good guys; he certainly wouldn’t have been in Pansy’s league, even if he didn’t have a girlfriend. Pansy was eating up the attention though. She could see her little pug nose thrown into the air as she laughed encouragingly at what Michael said. Of course she’d want to ruin anything that belonged to Ginny. She was basically a walking stigma. No one approached her or even looked in her direction, their eyes glancing from the piano of her left straight past to the great bay window, which looked out on the pheasants wandering the chilly perimeter.

And then suddenly there was Mrs. Malfoy in front of her, firewhiskey in hand, face upturned in a snotty expression. “Ms. Weasley, I don’t suppose you could come and help me distribute vol-au-vents? We’re slightly short on catering staff” _Great_ Ginny thought, _She’s getting me to be her servant now as well_. She could feel her cheeks colouring violently. But Mrs. Malfoy was already sharply eyeing her into the kitchen. Ginny wasn’t stupid; she knew this was a targeted attack. The Malfoys were so proper they’d rather die than be caught without enough kitchen staff. But alone and humiliated, Ginny followed Mrs. Malfoy down to the kitchen anyway.

As she walked, Ginny couldn’t help but notice the way her shimmering silver gown caught the candlelight and reflected it back, or the way it hugged her hips. She raised her eyes to chest level and her heart began to beat quicker. _Really_? She asked herself. _This again? And with_ her? Ginny had tried so hard to suppress her feelings; she knew they were wrong. It worked most of the time; just like most of the time she was able to convince herself she couldn’t remember anything about that year. But sometimes, like now, it broke through. They reached the kitchen. Ginny brushed the thought off and focused on her hands in front of her.

“You’ve got very pretty hands” said Mrs. Malfoy’s voice out of nowhere, and the tone was gentler that Ginny had ever heard her say anything. Now that she thought about it, she didn’t think she’d ever been alone with Mrs. Malfoy before. She looked up. There was something in her eyes that Ginny didn’t want to name. She exhaled.

“Your hair’s very pretty as well” Mrs Malfoy continued, her eyes never leaving Ginny’s. “It’s such a fiery shade of red”. Slowly, as though in a dream, Ginny watched Mrs. Malfoy reach out and stroke her hair. And then Ginny lost control of the rational part of her mind, the one that compartmentalised all her thoughts. That was the only explanation for what she did next, she decided later, as she replayed the scene again and again in her head. Reaching up, she outstretched her hands to Mrs. Malfoy’s face, meeting her lips with her own.


End file.
